


Like Sand Between Your Fingers

by Corpyburd



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Army, Egypt, Gen, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corpyburd/pseuds/Corpyburd
Summary: Sergeant Bennet Drake and Colonel Madoc Faulkner break rank to help their Brigadier. Even in the heat of the midday sun a simple thanks would have made a difference.





	Like Sand Between Your Fingers

The glaring sun beat down as the Brigadier General screamed obscenities at the scattering group of Egyptians workers. The scaffolding round one of the old temples had suddenly given way, knocking him off his white horse.

Colonel Madoc Faulkner and Sergeant Bennet Drake broke rank from the main regimental march and ran over to stop the horse from bolting and dragged the Brigadier from the falling rubble and dust. 

Faulkner calmed the horse as Drake lifted the Brigadier onto his feet and gave him his hat back. The whole regiment had now stopped marching as the debris blocked their way.

“Bloody imbeciles” shrieked the Brigadier at the men who had been helping  archaeologists in their new dig. “I ought to have the lot of them shot!”

Drake rolled his eyes at Madoc and helped the Brigadier back onto the horse which he held as the noise of the men and equipment grew louder. The Brigadier never looked at them or said thanks.

“Pompous old git” muttered Madoc.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” snapped the Brigadier.

“He said - it’s a particularly nasty day for it.” answered Bennet.

The Brigadier scowled at both of them, then wheeled his horse round and geed it pushing passed them. 

Both men burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Bennet then noticed that the Brigadier had dropped something. A silver engraved hipflask. He picked it up and opened it, running it under his nose.

His eyebrow lifted as he handed it to Madoc. “A nice drop of Scotch if I’m not mistaken Colonel.”

Madoc lifted the flask and savoured some of the whiskey from it. He passed it back to Bennet.

Bennet raised the flask, laughed and continued:

“To the pompous old git, who don’t give a shit, about his men marching in the sun.” and took a swig from the flask. 

He gave it back to Madoc.

Madoc countered in equal laughter “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don’t get you the whiskey must!” and he slapped Bennet on the back.

He drained the last of the whiskey from the flask. 

The Egyptian workers were now back, clearing away the rubble and scaffolding from the old temple. 

Madoc checked the flask was empty by holding it upside down, shaking it, and then placed the stopper back on the top.

They both looked at the old temple and the statues of the Egyptian gods that sat at its entrance.

“The Egyptians don’t think of time as we do” said Madoc “They say it’s like sand between you fingers. The more you squeeze, the more sand trickles through, like an hour glass, and we cannot stop it.”

“Well let’s get back to the march Colonel” replied Bennet “Because in this British Army - time waits for no man.”


End file.
